The Narrows

[Gita]

Late that evening, I found him at the kitchen table, a glass of Jim Beam poured, the dishes pushed to the side in a jumbled pile. A single burner on the stove glowed red, but no pot or pan sat on it.

"Kyle?" I asked, turning off the stove and pulling out a chair for myself, taking inventory of the knives close at hand, but not sure why.

He was deep in concentration, eyes focused on a point of great importance, a gaze I would imagine a sailor holds as he steers towards shore but has to navigate the narrows full of  unseen rocks that he once memorized.

His shirt was buttoned wrong, and bending down to pick up an imaginary crumb under the table I saw that he was wearing just one shoe, a shiny black one that he used to wear when we went dancing at the officer's club the year that he made captain.

"Kyle," I said again, not sure of what came next, as if it mattered, as if the awful changes had yet to start and we were having a conversation we both could follow.

 

* Inspired by a moment in the British detective series 'Foyle's War.'

 

 

[Harry]

This is just an excellent piece of writing. Losing someone that is still physically there has to be one of the most difficult things to deal with.

Just finished, "The Leisure Seeker" by Michael Zadoorian

good read that deals with this subject

[Jeanette Cheezum]

We had two in our family that lost a leg. Both in the military. I haven't thought of them in a while, thank you for reminding me. Great 6.

[Angela]

Great, great six.  I love "Foyle's War".  I want more.

[Mike Handley]

One of your finest, truly. Keep this. It's worth taking forward.

[Judy Thompson]

It can be such a slow process, a word, a look, an awkward moment here and there,  that I guess you are part of it before you realize what it is you're seeing.  And it's easy to forget that other people see  something totally  different than you do.    You've managed to show us the inside of living with it, from the outside as well. 

[Bill Floyd]

The sense of desperate denial there at the end is heartbreaking.  This must be a fearful moment indeed.  Fine, controlled writing.

[Gita]

Thank you all for commenting.  In a scene from 'Foyle's War,' a young Brit has returned from WW2 minus a leg, and his wife is so repulsed by him that she can barely stand to be in a room with him. I thought, 'But he's still himself. He still has the mind she loved, before the change. A leg is nothing. What must it be like to lose your spouse to dementia?' 

[Teresa]

Perfection, as Ron said.  I can't say enough.  It's amazing what awful things we learn to adapt to.

[Judy Thompson]

Oh, Gita. I bow to this, and to you. The third paragraph just hums with tension, like power lines in the summer. There's a whole damn novel in this set of sentences.

[Ron. Lavalette]

Kyle's clearly drawn, withdrawn.  The undrunk Beam, the unused stove burner.  Everything about this perfection.